


The Path to Enlightenment

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Case Fic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 05:50:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11247603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder
Summary: This is a casefile set just before Biogenesis in season six. Thank you to @teethnbone for throwing me scraps to use as inspiration for this story.





	1. One

The rock wall imposed itself in her view. Rounded and soft at a quick glance, but on closer inspection it showed its harder edge with the striations and scars of a life opened to the elements. She shaded her eyes then turned to see where Mulder was.   
He flipped shut his phone and shoved it in his pocket, looking beyond her to rocks. “Impressive, isn’t it?” 

“Ancient rock fortresses along the ridges of the Appalachian mountains, built by little gray men,” she said, trying to contain the bite that had been sharpening since their last pit stop to pump gas. Mulder had been talking to her. To Diana. There was a tightness to him, to his voice, to his presence, when he talked with that woman. Scully just wasn’t sure if this tightness was meant to protect her or to provoke her.   
“I didn’t say they were built by little gray men, Scully. I said there was evidence to suggest that the fortresses and rock walls were constructed by people not native to this land. The Moon-Eyed People. They were a small, pale skinned people with glassy eyes, living underground in the caves here.” 

“So why did they build these walls and fortresses along the ridges, if they were cave-dwellers? Surely, if you’re a secretive people your tendency would be to remain secretive, to stay underground. Why did they choose to surface? What happened to make them do that?” 

His phone buzzed again. She pursed her lips and looked down at her feet. This reaction was almost as reflexive now as rolling her eyes when he said ‘alien’. He ignored the phone and looked out beyond, along the top of the rock wall as it stretched on, 850 feet, according to the leaflet he’d given her in the car at the Fort Mountain Visitor Centre. 

“And where was the latest victim found?” she said, regaining enough composure to at least sound invested. 

“Over there,” He extended a finger to a series of small cave entrances, black holes stretched out like a burnt mouth. “David Maddox and Gil Tripodi were exploring the first cave. Tripodi claims a small figure was walking ahead of them, beckoning them. Tripodi warned Maddox not to follow but he did and when Tripodi caught up, he found Maddox collapsed on the cave floor. He attempted CPR and called paramedics.”

She followed Mulder over the rocky, dried out terrain to the cave entrance. In the stiff wind the police tape loosened and stretched tight with a percussive rhythm. A uniformed officer let them under with a cursory glance at their credentials. She sometimes wondered what the badge really meant. Years ago she would have been proud to flip it open to shut down some sexist or parochial tirade. Now it seemed less likely to open doors and more likely to elicit a bored shrug from those who looked at it. She slipped the worn leather case back in to her pocket and ducked under the low roof of the entrance. The cool hit the back of her throat. The darkness wrapped itself around her, a shock after the warm glare of the sun. Following the beam of her flashlight she found Mulder kneeling down a few hundred yards in. 

“Maddox was found here in this atrium. His skin and eyes were white.”

“There are a number of…”

His phone buzzed. He held up his hand to cut her off and she felt the burn of irritation fizz in her guts. As he spoke in guarded tones, turning his back to her, she mentally listed the diseases and conditions that could cause anomalies in the skin and human eye. 

“That was the local medical examiner wondering where you are.”

“Amazing that our communications technology can allow you to accept a call in an underground cave system in North Carolina yet you can’t let me know that you’ve booked me in for an autopsy. And we’ve been travelling in the same car for more than four hours.”

He turned away. Silvery dust skittered down from the cave roof. For a moment, Scully regarded Mulder like he was a figure in a snow dome. A distant effigy to be admired from the outside only. She could imagine another figure by his side. A tall, dark-haired woman, with a smile on her lips that held the secrets of a history between them. Something the viewer would never be able to fully understand. The dust motes magnified between them, dazzling her with their staccato waltz through the air. 

“Scully?” 

She looked up at him, hazy through the crystalline dust cloud. 

“Scully? Are you okay?” 

She nodded. His voice sounded distant, thick, as though it couldn’t penetrate the atmosphere. Like she had to drag it to her ears to understand. 

The sunlight at the entrance seemed filtered somehow. She blinked several times and dark flecks sunk and rose in her vision. At the edge of the car park, she turned to see if Mulder was with her. His phone was jammed to his ear. His mouth moved but she didn’t care to hear what he was saying. Beyond him, the rock wall bled into the horizon.

On the drive to the county morgue she watched the streaks of dust etch a zebra stripe across the windshield until she wondered how Mulder could see anything.

“Where will you be while I’m doing the autopsy?”

“Interviewing the partner, Scully.”

She didn’t rise to the bait of his condescending tone. She was tired. Her head throbbed. Needles of pain tingled in her throat. She felt nauseous. She rested her forehead between the thumb and fingers of her hand as they pulled up outside the motel. 

He walked around the car. “Cherokee cosmology holds that humans shared the earth with other supernatural beings. But the Moon-Eyed People, were never considered supernatural. Some believe they were benevolent, living in peace. Others thought they were an evil force, wiping out the indigenous people through malicious acts. Maybe that’s why the Cherokee engaged in a war which forced the Moon-Eyes away from this land. The forts and the rock wall here are believed to be evidence of that war. The Moon-Eyed People were nocturnal, unable to stand even the light of the moon. But where did they go after the war, Scully? How does an entire people just disappear?”

She shook her head. “I think the bigger question is why?”

He put his hand on the car roof and flexed his fingers. “Ciladaids, Scully. When you do the autopsy, look out for the ciladaids.”

“The what?” 

He put his hands on his hips and turned his profile to the sun. His jaw flexed and he waited a beat to repeat the word. “Ciladaids, the Moon-Eyes believed them to be minute spirit beings that lived in the sediment that falls from the cave roof. When a person has a decision to make, or is at a fork in their life’s road, the spirit being embeds itself in the eyes of the host and shows that person the right path to take. The eyes deceive. When the host is directed by the spirit beings, the ciladaids, he or she can see where they are truly going because they rely on their other senses.”

She fingered her motel key in her pocket, relishing the cool of the metal. She felt her eyes watering and she blinked rapidly to contain the flow of tears.

“Are you okay, Scully?” He was in front of her now, ready to rest his hands on her shoulders. She pinched her nose and sniffed. 

“I’m fine. I’m just…ciladaids. Really, Mulder?”


	2. Two

She ran through the autopsy like she was performing it for students. At best, it was a perfunctory examination, by the book. This victim was a dead body, a cadaver. She couldn’t assign him a soul or a life or a vivacity that she might once have done. Not so long ago, she would have found his life in his death. She was good at that. But today her head throbbed, her vision faded in and out and frankly, she just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep until Mulder had it all sorted. He wanted to believe. She just wanted to let him. 

Her phone rang. “What have you found, Scully?” 

“David Maddox died of cardiac arrest brought on by severe hypothermia, Mulder.” 

“At the height of summer?” 

“In an underground cave system, in the Appalachians, Mulder. His body shows all the signs, constricted blood vessels, blackened fingers and toes, organ failure. He froze to death. It explains the skin discolouration.” 

She could hear noises the television in the background. He was already back at the motel. 

“And the eyes, Scully?” 

“In severe hypothermia, the pupils often become unresponsive. I didn’t find your ciladaids, Mulder.” 

She signed the paperwork the medical examiner had completed. She noticed the tremble in her hand as she held the pen. She needed something to eat. She didn’t need Mulder debating the results of the autopsy. “What did the partner say?” 

“I’ll tell you when I see you. Can you get a cab back here?” 

She stripped off her scrubs and cleaned up. Greyness clouded her periphery. She massaged her temples and swallowed a glass of water that wasn’t cold enough to quench her raging thirst. 

Mulder was spreadeagled on his bed surrounded by pamphlets, papers and other paraphernalia. A year ago she would have flopped down next to him. A year ago he would have patted the bed and waggled his eyebrows. That year stretched out behind her like the rock wall at Fort Mountain. 

“Gil Tripodi and David Maddox were experienced cavers. They travelled the world exploring cave networks on every continent. Recently, David had seemed distant. Gil said this trip was a last ditch effort to work through his issues. This range had been their first cave exploration holiday together ten years ago. This trip was supposed to be a nostalgic walk down memory lane.”   
She pulled out the desk chair and sat before she collapsed. “I’m waiting for the medical history for Maddox to see if there were existing conditions, but I don’t see an X-File here, Mulder.” 

“A fit, relatively young man dies of hypothermia on a summer day, in a matter of minutes. His skin was grey and his eyes were white. But you don’t see anything odd in that?” He punched the pillow against the bed head and sat back. If he’d needled her with a mocking tone, if he’d yelled at her, if he’d thrown his hands up in frustration, she would have cared more. But he was neutral, calm. And that just made her mad.His phone rang. 

“If that’s Diana, say hello. I’ll see you in the morning, Mulder. I’m exhausted.” 

Even the shower didn’t stop the shivering. She found some extra blankets and cocooned herself in the bed. She could hear Mulder through the wall. Murmuring, pacing, switching channels. Over the years, she’d learned to use his nocturnal hyperactivity as a sleep aid. Perversely, his inability to rest relaxed her. But now, she was ultra aware of his movements, almost as though they were connected physically. Every step, every sigh, every touch of that remote control jolted through her. At 1.30am she gave up. 

He was hunched over the small desk pushed against the opposite wall. The room was illuminated only by his laptop. She padded over to him, clasping her hot tea in her hands. 

“Are you okay, Scully?” 

“I couldn’t sleep. Headache.” 

He stopped flicking through the case notes and looked up at her. 

“I’m fine, Mulder. I just have a headache. It’s hot here. I think I got a little dehydrated at the morgue. Did you find anything new?” 

“David Maddox was the third sudden death in this cave system in five years.”   
She sat on the bed and sipped her tea. “You’d be surprised by the number of fatalities in caves, Mulder.” 

He rubbed a hand through his hair and let it drop to the desk with a thud. “I’ve done my research too, Scully. But the circumstances of these deaths in particular bear a strong resemblance to what happened to David Maddox. The victims were otherwise healthy. They died suddenly, cardiac arrest. Their skin was pale and their eyes were white.” 

He stood up from the desk chair, exhaling dramatically. He sat next to her, the bed moving under his weight. She slipped closer to him, feeling the press of his thigh against hers. She ducked her head to her chest, squeezed her eyes shut against the insistency of the pain in her temples as well as the feeling of familiarity of being close to her partner. His smell, his essence. 

“These cases revealed other parallels to the Maddox death.” 

“Such as?” She felt the bed shift again. 

“For a start all the survivors claimed there was a small man in the caves, calling to them. And,” he reached for a file from the bedside drawer, took out a pile of statements and read from highlighted passages. “Gerry told me he was selling the business and then he went further into the cave and I lost track of him…Mum just couldn’t understand that I wanted to go overseas. We argued about it again and I stormed off. I heard her cry out. When I got to her she was cold and her skin was white. Her eyes were glassy.” 

“So you’re saying that these people were at a point in their lives where a significant relationship was being tested.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose.   
He nodded. “Just as the legend says. And all the autopsies showed that the victims had symptoms of hypothermia.” 

“You seriously want me to believe that micro-creatures in the rock sediments burrowed their way into the victims’ eyes and led them to their deaths; that these ciladaids of yours somehow manipulate the destinies of people and cause them to freeze to death rather than face some aspect of their lives that may upset their equilibrium with a significant other?” 

He flopped backward on the bed. The tea in her cup swilled side to side. “Why do you keep saying ‘my ciladaids’, Scully? I didn’t make this up. There are dozens of books that relate the stories of the Moon-Eyes and the spirit beings. Cultures around the world have long relayed stories that connect the supernatural with the human, that reflect the importance of the earth, rocks, caves, forests, water sources in human lives. That speak of Gods or Higher Beings controlling destinies. Why is this version so hard for you to hear?”

“But they’re just that, Mulder. Stories. Legends. Mythology.” 

He rolled on to his side and looked up at her. “I want to go back to the caves. To go in further. I want to retrace Maddox and Tripodi’s steps.” 

“Have you considered that the fact their relationship was in trouble could be motive for Tripodi to kill his partner? That all these other cases may well have been crimes too?” 

“Are you saying that Gil Tripodi is Mr Freeze, Scully? Cos if you are that’s kind of cool.” He sat up, smiling at her. “But he was devastated. He didn’t kill Maddox. He is grieving the love of his life.” 

His phone buzzed. She heard him suck in his breath. “Sorry Scully, I need to get this.”

She climbed into her own bed, the cool of the sheets lancing through her skin and leaving her shivering.


	3. Three

Gil Tripodi was bunched up on a seat in the café on the corner of the main street. He was nursing a black coffee and a broken heart. When he looked into Scully’s eyes she saw nothing but pain and regret. Mulder introduced her and Tripodi barely nodded. 

“Mr Tripodi, I’m sorry for your loss. Agent Mulder has given me some background on what happened in the caves. I know it’s a difficult time but we’re hoping you could go over some of the details again.” 

He stirred his coffee and Scully watched the dark liquid spin in the cup. She pulled her coat tighter around her. 

“David had been busy at work. Stressed, really. Months and months of disagreements with his business partner, a nosedive in profits.” 

“He owned a restaurant?” Scully clarified. 

“Yes. He trained as a chef in France. His cooking was exquisite. I…” he stopped and sniffed back tears. “He carried the strain with him, he suffered migraines and they became more frequent. He was short-tempered, snappy with me. We argued a lot. I suggested we come here, try to ease the strain. This was ‘our’ spot. These were ‘our’ caves. We were both looking forward to it.” 

Scully watched his face. His eyes half-shut, his lips quivered, his chin tilted towards the window and he breathed out a slow breath. “He was upbeat that morning. He talked about selling his share in the business, starting his own bistro. He…he held my hand as we walked around. He was happy.” 

“Agent Mulder and I are going back to the caves now. To retrace your steps. Is there anything else you can think of, anything unusual that happened before you separated, anything Mr Maddox said that was out of the ordinary?” 

Gil Tripodi shook his head and choked out bitter laugh. “We’d been talking about the future, throwing about names for the bistro. He wanted something exotic, French. He stopped suddenly, told me he loved me and only wanted the best for me. I told him it was his decision. Then we saw that strange little man, and David went after him. I told him not to. Something just felt wrong. It was like the atmosphere changed.” 

Scully leant towards him. “How so?” 

“One minute there was hope, and the next I felt a wave of anxiety come over me. I felt desperately that we needed to leave, to get out, but David was chasing after that man and I had to follow.” 

“Did David say anything to the man?” Scully asked. 

“I couldn’t make out the words but I heard his voice. It was calm, gentle, soothing almost. But when I got there, he was gone. David was just gone.” 

Mulder was talking on the phone. The ranger at the Visitor Centre was telling her with an equal mix of scorn and pride, about the sightings of the small figure in the caves, variously a ghost, a homeless woman, a Moon-Eyed leader or the spirit of a child lost in the system more than a hundred years ago. Scully was trying to tune him out as she flipped through the book on the counter. 

“What do you know about ciladaids?” 

“Ma’am, no offence, but your partner already asked me this stuff. He seems like the one who’s open to believe this kind of thing, but you, you seem like the sensible type. These are the sorts of stories that sell books. Tourists lap it up. The Moon-Eyes and the ciladaids and the path to enlightenment and all that. It’s just marketing BS.” 

Scully shut the book with a satisfying thwump. “Thank you, Sir.” 

Mulder joined them. “Find out anything new, Scully?” 

“Just that people love to hear a good story. Did you get the water?” 

He held up two bottles. “Ready?” 

“Are you?” she asked, holding his gaze. 

His lips opened with a pop but he said nothing. 

The sun was high overhead, bright in a hard blue sky. The rock formations on the ridges seemed paler, sharper, viciously scraping the air around them. The caves seemed darker, deeper, boundless somehow. She walked ahead of Mulder, swinging the beam of her flashlight over the cave roof and walls capturing the silvery dance of dust with each arc. 

“I’ve been trying to work out why the ciladaids would want to lead people to their deaths? Why would the Moon-Eyes allow that? Was it some kind of primitive justice system? Did they use it as some kind of punishment? Was it a test, an initiation ceremony? How did they choose their subjects?”

She stopped to inspect the walls, silvery liquid streaks running down the walls. “What if it were the other partner who had to make the decision, who had to change in some way?”

“I read a few stories where the subject was saved from a terrible fate. But mostly the stories are tragic. Scully?” 

She swung around to make out Mulder a few yards away. “What, Mulder?”   
“Is something bothering you?” 

“Yes,” she said, holding the light down to highlight the smooth cave floor. “I’m thirsty.” 

“You’ve been distracted since we came here.” He handed her a bottle of water.   
She watched him as she drank. “I guess I don’t see why we’re here. It feels like you’ve plucked this case from out of nowhere. Like an initiation ceremony for me.” She sucked in a juddering breath, pressed the cool bottle against the pulse in her wrist. “And, if you want me to be totally honest…” The small nod of his head, the way his eyelids began to close, the jut of his lips gave her permission to go on. “I feel some kind of distance from you. In truth, Mulder, I think it’s you who’s distracted.” 

He shifted on his feet. “And you think it’s something to do with Diana?” 

“Is it?” 

He looked beyond her. “There, Scully. I see him.” 

“Who?” She swung round, following the light as it tracked over the gothic interior. 

Mulder moved past her towards the back of the atrium they were in. “The Moon-Eye,” he said, turning back into the beam of her light. 

His expression was pure wonder, a look she’d seen many times. Usually, this childlike Mulder was a joy to be around, his enthusiasm infectious, but something stirred in her blood and she stood rooted to the spot, unable to follow. He melted away into the darkness and she turned off the flashlight. Under the ground, hearing only the pulse of her own life force beating in her ears, she sank to her knees. Her skull tightened under a pressure she couldn’t determine. Her skin cooled. Her chest sunk in as she struggled to breathe. Her fingertips scraped on the cave floor, bulking dust under her nails until it hurt. She knew she should call out but she couldn’t face Mulder and his concern, genuine or otherwise. When she looked up, she caught sight of the man. Small, gaunt, ethereal. She blinked twice but was unable to shake the vision. This man, this Moon-Eye with his pale skin, his neat, pointed beard, his wide grey eyes that shone, he crooked a finger towards her. He smiled. His presence changed the rhythm, upset the tempo. She heard herself moan.

“Look up, Dana,” he said.

She shook her head, aware at least of danger on some subconscious level. Despite her scepticism about Mulder’s rote knowledge of the Moon-Eyes and the ciladaids, she instinctively knew not to follow his orders, not to open her eyes.

“It’s the only way, Dana. You know it. He’s leaving you. If you open your eyes to the truth, you’ll find the better path.”

His voice was fluid, seductive. She knew he was moving towards her, she could feel his aura and as warming as his presence was, she shivered and felt chilled to her marrow. Her eyes flickered open and she saw the light he cast around her. Where was Mulder? Was he safe?

“Come with me. I’ll show you the way,” he said.

“No. I don’t want to go. I won’t go. I don’t need to go.”

His hand swept over her and she felt the air freeze around her. She sucked in a breath, her heart hammering. 

“You are troubled and he dishonours you with his distance.”

“No! He is my partner. Mulder! Where are you?”

She dragged herself backwards, across a sharp ridge on the floor. She felt the sting on her skin, the rush of blood to the surface. Sense zinged back into her, sharpening her thoughts. She pushed herself up, held a hand up to blot out the man. She called for Mulder again. Dust danced between them. He shimmered behind it, like a pale flame dancing and teasing. She turned away, looked at the solid grey mass of the cave wall. Logically, she knew she shouldn’t be able to see with any clarity but this man, the Moon-Eye seemed to be casting a glow strong enough to illuminate the smallest details. 

It was suddenly so clear. She stood up, walked towards him. He held out his hand. He was so small, so contained. And there were no blurred edges or ambiguity. He was unequivocal. He just was.His touch was smoother than she expected, cooler. She shivered as he gripped her hand. 

“Look up, Dana. See your way.”

She tipped up her chin, blinking against the unexpected brightness. The world above her was a miasma of sparkling fragments floating around her. They danced and shimmied around her face and she groped around her trying to connect, to catch them.


	4. Four

“Scully? Sculllllaaay?”

She could hear him but she couldn’t move. The Moon-Eyed Man had disappeared, leaving her surrounded by frigid darkness. Cold. She was so cold, the hairs on her arms stood up, her toes and fingers ached to the point of numbness, her lips were dry. Her blood pumped slower as she sank to the ground again. She sucked in the cool air, trying to fill her lungs. Pain sliced through her chest. She opened her mouth to call but the effort was too much. Why should she be the one who always made the effort? Would it be easier to just slip away quietly?

“Scully, tell me what to do? Scully? Can you hear me? Wake up.”

She could hear him. She could hear the note of desperation in his voice. That tremor of terror that he was losing someone again. Did it matter that she wasn’t his sister? If he were to martyr himself to the loss, did it matter who he was losing?

He pulled her up and shook her face. She felt the sharpness of his nails on her cheeks. She didn’t want to open her eyes, couldn’t bear to look at him but he was holding her now, enveloping her and she felt warm, she felt the blood flowing again, thinning out and running through her body. 

“Scully? We need to get out of here. Can you walk?”

He moved and she stumbled. He pulled her up and she let him. She felt the tickle of her hair against her face and her eyes fluttered open. She blinked, looked around, felt his hands on her shoulders, weighting her to the spot.

“Scully?”

“Mulder,” she said, the word tasting bitter on her tongue.

“Can you walk out with me?”

“Mulder, I can’t see.”

“What?”

“I can’t see. I can’t…” She choked and fell into him, connecting with his shoulder. His chest hitched and he grasped her upper arms. 

“I need to get out of here, Mulder.”

“I’ll guide you. Let me guide you.” He took her hand, squeezed it in his palm.

The trill of his phone hit her like a jolt from a defibrillator, energy and knowledge and absolutes fizzing back into her. She stumbled back from him, turned, held her hands out and stepped forward. 

The freedom felt good. She walked on, brushing the wall of the cave to guide her through the intricate tunnels. She knew she had to look deep inside herself to find the way. Just like the Moon-Eye had said. The quicker she moved, the more certain she became. She didn’t need to see the way, the way was clearing for her. 

She knew she must be deep in the system because the air was frigid, tasted bitter and thick with dust. Shivering. Lungs heaving. Tension in her skull building. Waves of pain criss-crossing her chest. She folded her arms around her, circled slowly, looking up but seeing nothing. When she sank to her knees she clutched at her heart. Was she trying to keep it in? Or help it to squeeze out? So she wouldn’t have to feel anymore. She pressed her forehead to the ground. 

“Walk with me.”

The words washed over her, tidal. She felt filled with them, not just her ears but her organs, her blood, her skin. She stood up, reached out her hand, felt his grip as he squeezed her fingers. 

“Scully…this way. With me.”

Her legs were weak, like she’d spend weeks in bed, wasting. Breathing hurt, like her ribs were on fire. Needles of pain shot through her forehead. 

“Why did you run, Scully?” 

Had she? “Is it much further?” She stumbled as he pulled her along. The sharpness of the cave floor pushed into her knees, stinging. “I can’t do this, Mulder.” 

“We need to get out of here. Just hold on to me. I’ll guide you.” 

She heaved herself up, knowing exactly what look he was giving her. “Do you even know where the entrance is? I feel like we’ve going round in circles.”   
He hissed out a breath. “It would have been straightforward if you hadn’t decided to do the extended tour.” 

In the quiet, she heard a soft click. He must have been using his flashlight to see where they were. 

“I’m sorry, Mulder. It was the strangest feeling. Like an impulse I couldn’t control.”

“Like the chip?” he asked in that quiet voice that came from fear.

“Everything seemed clearer somehow.”

When his arm snaked around her waist, she held her breath. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t explain it. It’s like I just knew what I had to do. It makes no sense, Mulder. I don’t know what happened.”

She heard the soft smack of saliva through his lips as he sighed. 

“You think it was the Moon-Eye. The ciladaids. That my blindness is caused by spirit beings from the sediment here, don’t you?”

He moved her forward. Walking with her now. “We’ll figure it out, Scully. When we get out of here.” 

“Why can’t we figure it out now? I didn’t die, Mulder. Why not? If your theory is correct, my soul should have been freed and my body would be lying in that spot where you found me, frozen to death. And I should have been seeking some answer, searching for the truth, looking for enlightenment.” 

“And were you?” 

“Don’t you find it ironic that we’ve spent years searching for the truth when we continually lie to each other?” 

“We don’t lie, Scully. Well, I don’t.” He moved her to the left. “Here, this way. That way’s too narrow. You’ll have to step over a small rock jutting out of the floor here. That’s it.” 

She did as he instructed and they walked on. “We certainly don’t tell each other the truth, Mulder.” 

He sighed before he spoke again. “Maybe because it’s too hard, Scully. We’ve got to duck here,” he said. “Even you.” His hand felt light on her neck as he pushed her down. She felt him straighten and she did too. 

“Why is that, Mulder? Why can’t we be honest?”

“Because the truth might hurt.”

“More than the lies and the deceit?”

“Who’s lying and deceiving, Scully?”

“You tell me, Mulder.”

“You think Diana is getting in the way of our partnership. Is that it, Scully?”

“Is she?”

He stopped and she knew he was running his free hand across his chin. She could hear his fingers scrape across his stubble. 

“She…she’s made me an offer.”

She nodded quickly. Tears burnt at the edges of her eyes. She hoped they would burn the sight back into her. She needed to see his face when he told her. She blinked but the darkness remained. “What kind of offer?”

“One that I’ve been considering.” His voice was even but she detected restraint, a careful choosing of his words.

“I see.” 

He chuffed out an ironic laugh. “Maybe I should have been the one to talk to the Moon-Eyed Man, Scully. Maybe then we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the cave.” His words jammed together, tension fuelling their speed. 

“And what enlightened decision would you have made, Mulder? To leave me so you can carry on fucking Diana Fowley until she fucks you over?” 

The spite in her voice rebounded off the cave walls and slammed back into her. 

He cursed under his breath. “Is that what you think I’ve been doing?” 

“Well, isn’t it? You can’t stand to spend more than hour a time off the phone to her. You won’t tell me where you’re going. You seem to trust her a whole lot more than you trust me.” 

“I’ve known her a long time, Scully.” 

“And you hadn’t seen her for a long time before she came back into your life, Mulder. People change. I have never understood just what it is that she holds over you. So I can only assume it’s emotional.” 

“It’s none of your business, Scully.”

“It is if our partnership is on the line.”

“Fuck you! You really want the truth, Scully? Well, here. Have it.” She felt the spray of saliva as he yelled at her. “I’m fucking her. Does that make you feel better? Knowing it? And you know what else? The only reason I’m fucking her is because I can’t get close enough to you.” 

She bit her lip so hard she tasted the tang of blood. She squeezed her eyes shut against the lancing pain that seared her brain. She heard him draw a shuddering breath in. She knew he was crying. 

“Because if I let myself, I’ll hurt you. I’ll damage you. I’ll break you. And I’ve already come so close to that, Scully.”

He pulled her to him, wrapping his trembling arms around her. She pressed her face into his chest, listening to his heart, beating strong and true. They stayed like that, his chin resting on her head, her tears wetting his tee-shirt. 

“Scully, he’s back.” His voice was a warm whisper in her ear.

“Who?”

“The Moon-Eye, behind you. It’s like he’s illuminating the cave. I shouldn’t be able to see him without the flashlight, but he’s just here, glowing.”

She opened her eyes and the world was lighter, a fuzzy grey through which she could make out shapes of things. She turned to where Mulder had told her the Moon-Eye was and she saw him too. A wavering silvery figure. Smiling. They followed him until he disappeared into the blossoming light of the cave entrance. 

She pushed the sunglasses up her nose as they drove away from Fort Mountain. A low sea of clouds undulated over the rocky backdrop, softening it, but the light still hurt her eyes, a low-grade headache still throbbed. 

He waited an hour to speak. “I told Diana that I wasn’t prepared to give up the X-Files, Scully. I thought you should know.” 

That was a start, she thought. A start on the path to enlightenment.


End file.
